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VICTORIA

My name is Victoria Nash. I am the WereWitch born to the Alpha. My grandfather hates me and what I stand for. Weakness-Fear-a diluted Alpha Bloodline because my mother wasn't even an Omega. Just a half-breed witch sister to the oracle though no one but I and Esmerelda know that fact. I am usually pretty good at hiding away from him when he is in the packhouse. Today though, something must have made him more angry than usual because he is out for blood. My blood. I'm not old enough to have my wolf healing yet, but I can heal myself with the magic, only it wears me out, and I can't run away from him fast enough.

I just need to stay hidden until he calms down. I count the tiles on the roof of the wine cellar. I can feel myself start to calm down. Slowing my heart rate, so he doesn't hear my heart beating—fear coursing through my body. A fear so potent it makes your teeth hurt. I listen as he walks past the door. He stops, and I hold my breath. I hear the handle turning and bite my lips so I don't scream. A hand grabs my arm and pulls me out of my hiding place. I brace for impact when nothing happens. I open my eyes.

"Damon?"

"You okay?" he says, not looking at me, only peaking through the half-open door behind him as he closes us in. My older brother, my saviour. He takes my beatings for me whenever I mess up. Today I messed up badly. I lost in training to a smaller girl. I am an Alpha's daughter. I am supposed to be stronger, but my mother was a Werewitch. It's similar to a hybrid Witch-werewolf but more powerful. Only I am not allowed to use magic. Only the pack oracle is allowed. She has been training me but in secret. She was my mother's sister and best friend. My father had an affair, and Damon's mother took me in like her own. Said it wasn't my fault my father was unfaithful and my grandfather killed my mother. I knew she hated me and everything I reminded her of. She tried to love me, but every time she looked at me, she was reminded she would never be enough for Theo Nash.

"I am, "I say, holding back the floodgates as relief fills me. Damon has his wolf, so his healing is faster. He had an early forced shift protecting me from our grandfather, who is manic. Damon said it only happens to Alpha blood wolves who are under intense stress or their human counterpart is dying, and the wolf is strong enough to break the barrier earlier. If that gives you any idea what this soulless man does to children beats them until the brink of death, and not even our own father stops him.

Our father, Alpha Theo Nash. A shell of a man forced to marry an Alpha female and reject his fated mate. Only he wasn't man enough to reject her, so when she died giving birth to our half-siblings Axel and Ellen, a part of dad's soul died. If he even had one ever. He is a good Alpha to the pack. They see what he wants them to see a strong family man, but those who work in the packhouse know the truth. His drinking and sleeping around is the only thing that numb his brokenness. A broken man, an empty soul, I can't wait to get my wolf and run as fast away from here as possible. I am only seven years old, but I knew I was an old soul early on. I spent most of my childhood hiding away in Esmereld's cabin, far from the packhouse, and I knew if I was strong, I would survive until my thirteenth birthday, when my wolf would rescue me and I would escape this place. I don't know if Dad would ever let Damon take the pack willingly. He knew Damon was good beating after beating Damon, never faltered, never showed weakness. He will be the Alpha this pack needs. I just wish I could see it. I had only left Cresent Moon territory to attend school in the city. That is what we told the pack anyways. That I was to be the pack's historian, so I must take special classes at what they called the Artamas Academy School for the gifted.

My first memory of Artamas. I was small, so small. I walked in with Esmerelda holding my hand. We walked into a Library of sorts. It looked old, though, nothing like the library at the packhouse. There was a small blonde-haired boy with the most piercing blue- almost ice-colored eyes. Maybe a year older than me. He was doing a puzzle. Every time he got the piece wrong, he winced as if being shocked. He smiled at me, a smile so bright it took my fear away. This place made me want my mother. She left me. She didn't want me. No one wanted me. That is what they told me anyway. I didn't know then that my mother died trying to protect me from Thadeus, my grandfather. He wanted to sell me to some Assassins group. The only reason they didn't take me at birth was Esmerelda said she would damn the pack. She said she would allow me to attend this school only. A concession she made to appease Thadeus as no one ever stood up to him. He was evil, and she thought I might actually be safer here. How wrong she was, or maybe she knew something I didn't. She had visions and intuition. Oracles were blessed by the mood goddess. Never to reproduce, but they had healing abilities and visions. Deep magic that no one could touch. Knowledge about things only the moon Goddess given knowledge. They were rare, only one per continent. I still don't know what trickery Thadeaus used to get her to join his pack, but she was loyal.

I attended classes on weekdays only for the two years. Then when I turned five, I was given a room and only went to the packhouse on summer holidays. I was given a memory tonic similar to what witches use to suppress memories. I would only remember the things I learned, not the experiences that happened at the school. So when I would go home, I could tell them all about how much I learned and the history of packs around the world. Battle strategies and anything else they wanted implanted in my memory.